The Thirteenth Rose
by Melodie Allete
Summary: Sometime after they defeat Valentine, Jace and Clary have an argument, and he tries to make it up to her. Mostly just a fluffy little story. Thanks for all the great feedback, but this is a ONESHOT!


_A/N: This is told from Clary's POV and takes place at some undetermined time/place in the future. Sorry that the specifics are kinda fuzzy! I don't own Jace or Clary._

I heard a knock and went to answer the door, dreading whoever it may be.

"My God," my eyes narrowed to slits as I saw Jace standing in my doorway. He grinned at me, very superficially. "Why are you here?"

"Why would I be anywhere else?"

I flinched. "What do you _want_? Haven't you already done enough here?"

"Just came to give you a present," his voice was serene, and he held up a dozen blood red roses. I hadn't noticed them before.

"And you think that you can just slink back here and _give me flowers_? After what you did to me?! I don't think so, you JERK!"

I slammed the door in his face, fuming. There were a few seconds of silence, and I lingered by the door. I was breathing heavily, fighting back tears when another, softer knock sounded.

"_What_?" I exclaimed irritably as I flung the door back open. Jace was still standing on my doorstep, but his grin had faded, his eyes darkened—for once in his life, Jace looked somber.

"Clary," his voice was hard, "Just take the Goddamned roses. I came here to give them to you, and I won't leave until you take them."

I grudgingly grabbed them, enveloped by their sweet perfume as I drew my hand back.

"Good. Now, I have something I need to say."

I remained silent, icily waiting for whatever stunning epiphany the golden boy had come to. But there was no way that I was going to give in.

"I know that what I did was wrong. You have every right to be mad at me. I'm sorry. But what I really came here to tell you tonight was this: …I will love you until the last rose dies. No shorter amount of time than just that."

"Oh, real nice," my voice dripped with acid. A sad sort of smile appeared on his face. "So you're telling me that you'll love me for, what, three or four days? Wow." A single rogue tear slid down my cheek. "That's low. Even for you."

"I suppose it may be."

"God, Jace, why do you have to be so _frustrating_? Just leave! I don't ever want to see your face again—you lying, filthy bastard! Get out of my _sight_!"

"Just think about it. I would suggest putting those in some water." He said mildly, a twinge of sadness in his voice. He still wore that melancholy smile, infuriatingly confusing as it was.

"GO AWAY!" I screamed and slammed the door in his face again. Still stubbornly fighting back tears, I stormed to the kitchen. I filled a vase with water and started arranging the roses, much against my better judgment. I cut my fingers on the thorns, but didn't even notice as the small drops of blood started to fall. I didn't even understand why I was bothering to care for these flowers.

Every time I saw them, _I would think of him_.

…And deep in my heart, I knew that was precisely _why_ I would look after them.

The thought brought more tears to my eyes. I really didn't know how much longer I would be able to go without crying. As my fingers brushed over the bud of the middle rose, I froze. With wide eyes, I gently drew a thirteenth flower out. It was made of a beautiful, fine silk. On the stems, in place of thorns, were hundreds of tiny runes—runes for forever and strength and love.

"_I will love you until the last rose dies. No shorter amount of time than just that."_

I braced myself against the counter as his words swirled around my head. He would love me until the last rose died—but there was no way that this rose could ever be destroyed. It would last forever.

And then the tears started to fall. And then I was crying in earnest, sobbing my heart out over a boy that I had just sent away forever—told him that I never wanted to see his face again. And now I probably never would…and yet—

"Shh," for some reason, I wasn't shocked when I heard his voice. "Come here."

"Jace," I whispered as he pulled me into a strong embrace, wrapping his arms around me in a way that was a strangely comforting mix of possessiveness and protectiveness. The tears still fell, and I still cried. And he just held me, gently rocking back and forth as he whispered undeserved words of comfort to me. "I'm s-so…sorry…"

"It's alright. Shh, just calm down, baby. It's okay. I'm here now. I'll always be there for you, Clary."

"I know." I finished crying and quickly wiped away my tears. His shirt was soaked with my tears, flecked with tiny drops of blood from my fingers—though I knew he wouldn't care. "And that just makes it so much worse."

As I looked up at him and found myself lose in his intense, liquid-golden gaze, I wondered if he had heard me. Though his eyes stayed glued to mine, the way he looked at me just made me feel so…_exposed_. Naked. I hardly noticed when one of his hands moved to caress my cheek.

"Don't let it," his voice was so dark, so low, so sexy. I was pretty sure that being _this_ seductive was illegal. He stared into my eyes for a moment longer before roughly pulling my face to his, giving me a long, sweet kiss. As he started to pull away, I moved one hand to the back of his neck, keeping him close. Our noses were practically touching as I whispered. My lips brushed against his as I spoke.

"I'm not done apologizing yet…"


End file.
